Crow's Legacy
by VideoSpud
Summary: AU. Not all legends rot in the ground.
1. The Return

**A/N:** Wrote this down on Tumblr earlier, after I made a post about Hagire's alternate nicknames if he ever took another Deadman's body besides Toto. With that being said, this is obviously AU. I might continue it, though I'm not entirely sure about that.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to Deadman Wonderland. All rights are reserved by Kataoka Jinsei.

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**Crow's Legacy**

Chatter skittered from wall to wall like an echo, faintly adhering to his ears. They twitched slightly, tensing up before relaxing again. To breathe in a body that wasn't already on its way out felt good - too good. That old hobble of a man may have had a hefty Branch to stand on; may have been the former Director of Wonderland; may have been many things. What he didn't have was durability. Power. Speed.

Insurance.

Now that was behind him. He had this body of a man who once went undefeated and unhindered in the Carnival Corpse, cracking skulls left and right, covering every single millimeter of his Branch as possible. Carnage was and still is a word pertaining to his legacy.

But, ah, the bonus round killed him. He couldn't handle the demon stalking the shadows of Wonderland. It tore him in two, quite literally.

Not to say, y'know, that he didn't leave his mark. It wasn't a clean cut, perfect match on the demon's end; it lost an arm to his Branch. This man, this once-proud officer of the law, pierced the eye of the storm and injured the hurricane, so to speak.

That was then and this is now. There's work to be done now that his previous generation was wiped away by the demon, the Wretched Egg.

"Ahhh," he took in a deep breath as he entered the workout room, cracking his knuckles on each hand and sliding his neck to the sides, "let's see how well you fare, 'Kiyomasa Senji.'" Staring back at him in the large wall-span mirror was his current body of choice: Crow himself.

His skin was pale as ivory, a side effect of "coming back" from the "dead." The hard set eyes of his were glazed over still. Tendons bulged beneath the long-sleeved white jacket that covered his torso, barely concealing the condition the body was left in. Muscles flexed all around as he tensed up, wanting to be one-hundred-and-ten percent sure that this body lacked fragility. Black jeans covered his legs, where the demon had left another mark, hewing the legs from the calves.

Crow placed his hand on his abdomen, fingers tracing along the scar running from the hipbone to his left breast. It stung a little, as though the slightest bit of irritation would cause it to burst open.

"You're the last thing from fragile," he murmured, moving the same hand towards the mirror. "I can't take any chances with you dying on me." Within a second's notice, crimson oozed from the pores of his palm, lengthening into a blade as wide and long as his arm.

It slid through the glass easily, wobbling between the frame and the wall. Huffing, the man flicked his arm to the left. The blade followed, leaving spiderweb cracks in the mirror as it followed the trajectory. Over and over it went, until it hit the end of the glass.

"Heh." he chuckled. This Branch was powerful, no doubt, and fast to boot. It retracted into his palm about as fast as it formed, leaving no trace behind other than the trail of destruction emblazoned in the mirror. "Well goddamn. I made the right choice in picking you."

Light footfalls caught his attention. Another bird was coming; he wondered which one it could be.

A soft gasp touched his ears. Crow turned around, catching sight of the lively boy who once knew him.

"C-Crow-kun." He tilted his head to the side, bemused at the stutter and lad's features. That light blue hair, those bright golden eyes and soft mellow flesh. There was no doubt about it; Mockingbird had arrived.

"Nice to see you too, Mockingbird." And so it began.


	2. Mayhem

**A/N:** Here's the second chapter! Hope that someone enjoys i~t. :)

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing related to Deadman Wonderland. All rights are reserved by Kataoka Jinsei, the creator of this wonderful series.

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**Mayhem**

"In the blue corner we have returning champion Crow," the stage lights focused on the bulky man far to the left side of the cage, "and in the red corner, our aspiring whelp, Parrot!" And then they snapped over to the equally burly boy to the far right. Both participants squinted.

The announcer continued with his monotonous announcement as the two Deadmen sized one another up. Crow didn't seem at all nervous or anxious, well, that was obvious since he once dominated the Carnival Corpse. Parrot had an air of confidence about him, highlighted by his win streak over the past few months; five consecutive matches won, without missing a beat.

"Big man's back in the game now, 'uh?" Parrot chirped, thumbs grazing his forearms and drawing blood with a bare flick. He had the kind of face which Crow wanted to mop the floor with; very narrow, very cocky, always wearing an expression of supremacy. His eyes were white, too, and with bushy caramel hair mixed with that peach flesh, made him very feminine-like.

Crow licked his lips, cracking each knuckle individually. "You can say that." he said nonchalantly, left hand gliding over the scar tissue on his abdomen. The wound didn't hurt anymore. It didn't sting as though it would burst open. "I'm out of ah, practice, I guess," he stepped forward as the announcer's voice faded, fingers twitching slightly. "I've heard a lot about you, Parrot. Live up to your hype."

The cocky man snorted in response, hands clasped together in patient abundance.

"Deadmen, FIGHT!"

Parrot threw his arms back and blood sprang from the wounds on his forearms, accompanied by hexagons. Crow knew of his opponent's Branch beforehand; through the grapevine he heard that it was just about as fast as his own.

_We'll see about that,_ he smiled, arms casually laced behind his back. A shadow descended upon the calm bird, several in fact. He eased his eyes upward and the smile grew.

"Eat shit!" Ah, that wasn't very nice of Parrot to say. He'd need to get that mouth of his cleaned out…though Crow preferred to see it lobbed off that pretty little face of his.

Squares fell from above. Yes, squares; however, they were simply a facade for his Branch's hidden qualities.

The veteran Deadman stepped aside, dancing around the four or so massive crimson squares that tried to squash him flat. Child's play, really.

"C'mon kid," he said, icky mahogany trailing from Crow's index finger, "you can do better than this." Moments later, the squares were sliced to bits. Amidst Parrot's surprise, the former champion darted straight through the crimson mist, his target obvious.

"Oh hell no!" yelled Parrot, hexagons spinning to life on his fingertips. Bite-sized squares sprang from his fingers and zip-lined towards Crow, half in the air and the other half traveling closer to the ground.

The other man laughed a carefree laugh, tilting his head to the side in amusement.

"You didn't hear me."

He crouched mid-sprint and hopped through the point between the squares, scythe-like blades emerging from his elbows and wrists.

"Tch, doesn't matter, asshole." Parrot muttered, grinding his fingers into the hexagons. Bloody squares changed into multi-layered cylinders that responded to the movement of their objective, sliding downwards and upwards to ultimately collide with each other.

Riiiiiiight. That was special quality number one of Parrot's Branch; shape manipulation and trajectory alteration, on-the-fly. It was nothing Crow couldn't handle, though in midair it would prove to be a challenge.

Twisting his arm in an awkward way and funneling himself into a spin, he released several more blades from beneath his fingernails and along the back of his arms, each connecting with a corresponding cylinder as they extended.

When he landed mere meters away from Parrot, knee bent and arms covered with his Branch, hell, it didn't take a fuckin' rocket scientist to know that he was done for.

"Night night, you yappy little bird."

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Gore bathed the bird cage. Mucky crimson feathered the bars and base, staining the beautiful cherry blossom tree with sin and death.

At the edge of the carnage stood the victor with his spoils. One bare foot rested atop the Parrot's head, moving it back and forth, back and forth, forth and back. The rest of his body lay elsewhere in the cage; some bits were scattered here and there below the cherry blossom tree; others weren't even _in_ the damn cage to begin with.

"And the victor is…Crow!"

A festive uproar from the faceless watchers reached his ears, and with a grin he raised his arms into the air.

This was his Wonderland, and the other birdies better damn well understand it!


	3. Downtime

**A/N:** Yay, more Haginji goodness. This is more of an interlude than anything...

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything related to Deadman Wonderland. All rights are reserved by Kataoka Jinsei.

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**Downtime**

Between the multiple Carnival Corpses and indiscriminate fights, the scientist needed a place to rest, a sort of "nest" he could scuttle away to while his body required sleep.

That place happened to be in a lower sector of G-ward, directly beneath the main hall where other Deadmen ate and watched the Carnivals. Down there, among the gears and dust and trash, Crow repaired the injuries he accumulated from recent battles.

Fractures, bruises, broken bones - how rare they were, though he knew that if he didn't fix them right away, he'd be paying with his life later on.

On this particular evening, he was wrapping up the latest wound: a skull fracture above his left eye. Chan and En wrapped his head with surgical precision after easing the pressure and stitching him up, snipping the end after it went around thrice.

With a wave of the hand he dismissed them. He came to his feet and walked over to a lone mirror he had placed near one set of gears, examining the body he had been inhabiting for little over a year now.

"Hmm, not lookin' too bad there." he murmured, flexing his arms and arcing his back slightly. Raw scar tissue lay flat against his abdomen and along the palm of his right hand, where more stitches were once sewn in. "Crow" chuckled, an almost maniacal look of admiration sparkling in his gray eyes.

"Every ounce of pain is worth it." He pressed his hand against his own reflection, sticking his tongue out.

**Crow Claw**

It shattered instantly, then again and again and again until the frame was little more than a fine dust gliding across the floor.

Oh, how bored he was! All the other birds were simply filler, itsy-bitsy pieces on a chessboard meant to appease and satisfy his needs, his cravings.

"Ahahaaa…" he craned his neck back and laughed, adrenaline roaring through his veins and bloodlust lapping up every last sip of his sanity. "I need more….more…"


End file.
